


Last Emotion

by flimflam99



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimflam99/pseuds/flimflam99
Summary: I based this fic on something I read in an interview with Louise Brealey on the PBS Masterpiece website she did in December 2016. "I really like that these tiny moments happen and other stuff’s obviously going on behind, you know, that we don’t see, as an audience. And something about those tiny moments tell you that — this sounds odd, so you might have to winkle out exactly what I’m on about — but it’s like those tiny, tiny moments make you feel like there’s something else happening somewhere else.”  This is again(!!) after that phone call...........





	Last Emotion

Molly couldn’t believe that she was sat in the back of a car with, off all people, Mycroft Holmes. There was an uncomfortable silence between them after Mycroft told her about the events at Sherrinford. Molly just felt numb as though although her body was present her mind had gone somewhere else entirely. 

She had been woken up just before midnight by her phone ringing. She had answered it and immediately recognised Mycroft’s voice who had informed her that she needed to vacate her flat for a couple of days for it to be ‘debugged’. At first Molly thought she had some sort of insect infestation but quickly realised he meant cyber ‘bugs’. She was advised to bring enough clothes and things for a couple of days and that she would find a car outside waiting. Which she did. Only she wasn’t expecting Mycroft to be in the car too. 

So now they sat in silence while Molly ran over in her head what Mycroft had just said, about his sister Eurus, Victor Trevor, the phone call and most of all, Sherlock. 

Sherlock. She was going to a safe house in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night and Sherlock, John and Rosie were going there too. Molly was trying to keep that thought in her head and not trying to think too much about cameras hidden in her flat, spying on her, spying on her and Sherlock………..

Molly didn’t realise that she had groaned aloud until Mycroft spoke.

“Molly, my dear, are you alright?” Mycroft sounded almost gentle which startled Molly who was used to his patronising tone from when she helped Sherlock fake his death.

“Um, yeah. I’m fine”. Molly replied, fidgeting in her seat.

“Please try not to worry, Molly. I’m sure everything will turn out for the best” Mycroft was trying to sound reassuring, but completely failing.

“Yes”. Molly answered absently, already going back to the thought of the hidden cameras and what she’d been up to in the last few weeks. Oh good lord! Molly felt as though she was going to be ill and she was glad the car was in darkness as her face reddened. She took in a deep breath. She tried to think of something else, Rosie, John, even Mary but it was no good, her thoughts kept going back to two days ago, when she had last slept with Sherlock.

“Are you sure, you’re ok Molly? You seem to be in some distress” Mycroft asked quite concerned.

Did he know? Were the hidden cameras live or recording everything and if so where were the recordings? Did Sherlock know about them? Had Mycroft seen the footage and therefore knew about her and Sherlock?

“We’re almost there. Try and hold on Molly”. Molly didn’t know what he meant by ‘holding on’. Maybe he thought she needed the loo! Perhaps she should just ask him about the cameras? Oh god no, that was just mortifying.  
…………………….

John in turn was sat in the back seat of another car with Sherlock, who was sat the other side of Rosie who was in her car seat. Sherlock was either asleep or in his mind palace having a rummage. It was almost two in the morning and they were nearing their destination. They were being taken to a safe house whilst his house was being checked out as a precaution. They had picked up Rosie from his friend’s house on the way. 

The phone that Sherlock had been given rang. Sherlock opened his eyes and answered it. It was Mycroft. The conversation was mostly one sided with Sherlock saying 'yes', 'ok' and 'thank you, bye'.

"That was Mycroft. Molly has arrived safely and Mycroft is going back to London". Sherlock sounded tired.

"Is she ok?" John turned to look at Sherlock who was resting his head against the window. 

'Yes. A bit shocked of course. Mycroft told her everything that's happened." Sherlock sighed and put the phone down on the seat. John cleared his throat and asked the question that he needed to ask before they saw Molly.

"So what you told Molly on the phone, was it true? Do you love her?" John asked softly.

Sherlock's head snapped up and he glared at John. John felt rather than saw the glare. 

"We'll be seeing her soon and if you didn't mean it then I need to know because I'll be the one who'll have to pick up the pieces." He continued.

There was silence.

"I did mean it though John". Sherlock spoke succinctly.

"Yes, I thought you did. I must admit you certainly fooled me, I thought it was Irene. Obviously Molly loves you, god only knows why, but you kept your cards close to your chest, didn't you? So what are you going to do about it, are you going to have a go at being a couple?" John smirked at the thought. Sherlock Holmes being all loved up.

"Um... John? There's something else you ought to be aware of." Sherlock paused dramatically. "Molly and I are in a relationship."

"What! You mean you and Molly have slept together?" John's mouth hung open. Sherlock nodded.

"How long has this been going on?”

"Since the day of Rosie’s christening. I walked Molly home after the party and well, it just sort of happened.”

"Oh. My. God" John shook his head disbelievingly. There was quite a long pause as John thought about what Sherlock had just told him.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Why would she struggle so much to tell you that she loves you if you’re together?” John thought some more. Then he groaned. “Nothing’s simple with you is it? How many times have you slept with her?” Sherlock thought.

“Um, four? Although there was that time when she knocked me back, so that would have been five.” John put his head in his hands.

“Let me make a deduction and you tell me if I’m right. You and Molly have only slept together four times since the christening which was months ago. Neither of you have mentioned it to me or anyone else about being in a relationship. You aren’t dating and you obviously haven’t told her how you feel about her. That’s not being in a relationship Sherlock!” What was going on in that man’s head?

“Isn’t it? What would you call it then?” Sherlock huffed at him, irritably pushing his hair off his forehead.

"The polite term is “friends with benefits”. John said quite frankly. “Look mate, I know this is difficult for you but you need to stop trying to kid yourself, you are no more a machine than I am. You love her. The problem is you have to convince Molly that you meant it when you said you love her. I presume you want something a bit more permanent than “friends with benefits"”. There was silence from the other side of Rosie’s cot. Then Sherlock shifted slightly in his seat.

“Yes, I do” He stated simply.

\-------------------------------

Molly sat on the sofa in the Sitting Room. Mycroft had just left after showing her where her room was (it was obviously the Master Bedroom and was painted in a lovely pale yellow colour) and where Sherlock and John’s rooms were. Mycroft then left, leaving Molly on her own, although he did point out that there were security staff in the grounds and just to shout if she needed help. 

She didn’t really know what she was doing here, why she couldn’t have stayed in London at some hotel or something. Perhaps John wanted her to look after Rosie. Molly kept thinking about what she’d made Sherlock say and whether her making him say ‘I love you’ had in fact pushed him further away from her. But he had upset her so much with that phone call that she had lashed out at him, how was she to know that he was being made to do it?

The problem was she didn’t know what sort of relationship they had. They had slept together four times in the last several months, other than that they behaved as they normally behaved, no kissing or touching one another. In fact Molly herself never initiated anything, it was all on Sherlock’s terms, although he always asked her permission in a rather formal manner which made her want to laugh. The only time she had refused him was when he was coming off drugs, which to give him all due credit, he accepted gracefully enough. She loved him so much, but did he love her? Or was she just a convenience.

Molly’s thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the front door, then John appeared in the Sitting Room and Molly could see Sherlock going up the stairs with his and John’s stuff.

“Molly, are you ok?” John was holding Rosie in the crook of his arm, but he put his free arm round Molly and gave her a hug.

“I’m ok. Are you?” John nodded. “Hello Rosie”. Molly lightly stroked Rosie’s cheek. Sherlock thumped down the stairs and Molly turned to him and looked into his face. They stared at one another for several seconds and then Sherlock’s face went blank. He nodded to her and went into the Kitchen. John looked at Sherlock and then at Molly and then he shook his head.

“There’s sandwiches in the fridge.” Molly shouted to Sherlock. She looked at John who was watching Sherlock in the Kitchen, opening the fridge to get out the sandwiches and getting some plates out the cupboard. “Why don’t I take Rosie, then you can have some food.” John turned to her and gently placed Rosie in her arms before going into the Kitchen. John walked into the Kitchen and started muttering under his breath to Sherlock.

Molly sat back on the sofa gazing down at her goddaughter. She was aware of John and Sherlock sitting down in the armchairs opposite one another next to the unlit fire, eating their sandwiches. Even though Molly was not too far away from them she felt as though there was a big chasm between her and the two men. They seemed to have a genuine affection for one another and after what had happened yesterday, Molly wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t feel part of it and wondered again why she was there.

Molly smiled wistfully at Rosie in her arms and cuddled her closer to her, stroking her cheek gently. She suddenly felt close to tears because at this moment in time she felt as though the only person in the world who loved her unconditionally, who was gazing at her adoringly with her baby blue eyes, was Rosie. She didn’t need to pretend not to love her, not to care for her. She felt so alone, Sherlock hadn’t even spoken to her. 

She didn’t realise she was actually crying until a big fat tear landed on Rosie’s purple dress. She hastily wiped it away, keeping her eyes down, hoping that it had gone unnoticed. Another tear plopped onto her hand and she put her hand to her face to wipe her tears away. This was just awful, she hadn’t cried in front of anyone since her dad died, she did her crying out of sight of anyone else. She wasn’t aware that John had noticed and he was glaring daggers at Sherlock who had gone white as a sheet. John got up.

“Molly, let me take Rosie.” John stood next to her, holding out his hands and she gave Rosie to him. “I’m going to put her to bed and then go to bed too.” He squeezed Molly’s shoulder and left the room.

Molly was trying really hard not to burst into loud noisy sobs. She quickly stood up, she had to get out. She blindly took two steps forward and nearly fell as she collided with Sherlock. He steadied her, sat them both back on the sofa and held her in his arms, gently rocking her and rubbing her back. 

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” She whispered against his shirt, her silent tears still tracking down her face. She sniffed and cleared her throat. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Why would I hate you? Surely it should be the other way round, you should hate me.” Sherlock rumbled. 

“But it was Eurus who made you ask me, whereas it was me that made you say it. And I know you didn’t mean it but please Sherlock, don’t shut me out again, I couldn’t bear it. Please say we’re still friends.” Molly buried her nose in his chest. His arms tightened around her.

“We’ll always be friends but I had hoped, maybe more than friends? This is all my fault, Molly. I’m hopeless at expressing my feelings, half the time I can’t even admit to having them and because of that I’ve hurt you and that was never my intention.” He kissed the top of her head.

“More than friends? Do you mean like before?”. Molly whispered pulling back from him slightly.

“Is that what you want?” Sherlock frowned at her and Molly suddenly snapped at him.

“For once in your life Sherlock Holmes, tell me what you bloody well mean”. Sherlock looked shocked for a moment and then he gave a wry smile. He took her hand and kissed her wrist, his tongue gently licking against her pulse, grazing his teeth on her skin. Molly moaned and pulled her hand away. He took her head in his hands and looked her straight in the eye.

“I find myself wanting to lose myself in you. So that you can find me again and bring me home.” He muttered hoarsely. He kissed her on her forehead and her eyes fluttered closed so he kissed her on her closed eyelids and finally on her lips before pulling back. Molly opened her eyes. Sherlock’s smile was wobbly and there was a sheen to his eyes that spoke of unshed tears. “I want to hold you and never let you go.” Molly let out a sound that was half sob, half snort. Sherlock drew back from her clearly bewildered.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, don’t cry, i….” But Molly just grabbed him and kissed him to shut him up. The kiss went on and on and Molly was extremely dizzy when they drew apart. 

“That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She breathed. Then she laughed. “Do you think Mycroft has this place bugged? I wouldn’t mind playing that back again.”

“He wouldn’t dare bug my own house, not after failing at Baker Street.” Sherlock grinned at her. 

“Your house? This is your house?” Sherlock nodded delighted at her astonished reaction.

“Well actually it will be our house, for weekends to begin with or holidays. I was planning to give you half as a wedding present. I painted the Master Bedroom myself in your favourite colour.” Sherlock looked quite bashful.

“Wedding present?” Molly raised her eyebrows and giggled.

“I suppose I might be jumping the gun a bit, you wouldn’t be averse to marrying me would you?” Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. 

“Hmm. Probably not. Although like you said you’re jumping the gun a bit. We need to actually date one another then live together for a while, you’d need to propose properly, then I might need to think about it for a month or two…..”

“What? Dating? Like boyfriend and girlfriend? And why would you need a month or two to think about it?” Sherlock sounded disgusted and aggrieved at the same time. Molly fell into fits of laughter.

“Ok. We could compress it a bit we could date and live together as a couple, but I expect a proper proposal when the time is right.” She stated firmly. Sherlock huffed.

“I think I could live with that, but are you serious about taking a month or two to think about it?” 

“I don’t think you need to worry on that score” Molly teased before capturing his mouth, tangling her hands into his hair, firmly telling him that on this occasion she was taking the initiative.

\--------------------------------

Molly came downstairs the next morning to find John feeding Rosie. Molly put the kettle on and put bread in the toaster.

“Morning John, have you eaten yet?” Molly asked brightly. 

“No not yet.” John spooned some more food into Rosie’s mouth. Molly buttered the toast and put the plate next to John, putting more bread in the toaster and making the drinks.  
“Is Sherlock still asleep?” John asked, taking a bite of toast. Molly nodded.

“He’s quite exhausted, poor thing.” Molly caught John smirking and realised what she had said. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I meant with all that happened yesterday…. not that we didn’t…. Oh God! Shut up Molly!” She buried her face in her hands. John laughed out loud. “It’s not funny!” Molly moaned.

“Sorry, Molly. It’s just that it’s Sherlock we’re talking about.” John grinned again. Molly took her hands away and smiled back at him. They ate their toast in a companionable silence.

“So you and Sherlock, are an item now?” John asked quietly taking their plates and putting them in the dishwasher. He picked Rosie up and cuddled her.

“Yeah.” Molly’s smile faded a bit. “John?” Molly moved closer to him so they were standing side by side. “Whatever happens between me and Sherlock, I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you and Rosie.” John frowned at her.

“I know, but you and Sherlock are ok aren’t you?” Molly moved away and looked out of the window.

“You know what Sherlock’s like, he’s probably already making a list of guests for the wedding.” Molly smiled briefly. John came and stood next to her again, patting Rosie on the back absentmindedly. 

“And you don’t want that?”

“Yes of course I do, I’d marry him tomorrow but…..” Molly looked down at her hands “I’m nothing special, John and I don’t want him to marry me and then regret it”. She turned away and cleared her throat.

“You know, I’ve never really understood why you’ve stood by Sherlock for so long. Loved him for so long.” John said quietly. “I mean he’s said some nasty things to you in the past, he’s a bit of diva and is extremely selfish.” Molly turned back to John surprised.

“I dunno, it’s difficult to explain. There’s something about him that he tries to keep hidden but I can see it, I’ve always been able to see it. And I think you see it too, don’t you? That’s why you’re friends with him. I know he can be rude and abrupt and there are times I could kick him in the shins but if you look underneath, he’s kind and considerate and funny and a little bit scared too. And that’s what I love about him.” John nodded.

“Perhaps he see’s something in you.” John added.

“John’s right.” The two of them whirled round to see Sherlock leaning against the doorframe. “I do see something in you, Molly. You’re extremely intelligent, bright and funny but there’s a vulnerability to you that makes me want to hold you tight and make it go away. And I should be really cross right now that you think I would ever regret being with you.” Sherlock made his way over to Molly and pulled her to him. “But I’m not because I understand. I don’t want you to regret it either.” Molly shook her head violently.

“No I wouldn’t, I love you Sherlock!” She burrowed her head into his chest.

“I love you too Molly.” He lifted her head up and kissed her. 

“Oh God. Don’t look Rosie. Come on let’s go and play in the Sitting Room and leave the lovebirds do it, shall we?” John smiled a big smile and left them to it.

**Author's Note:**

> The worst thing I find about writing is thinking of a title. It's funny how a title of a song seems to fit the bill though. So the title 'Last Emotion' is written and sung by Clark Datchler of Johnny Hates Jazz (who I've mentioned before in other fics, sorry!). I think this is a good title though as is romantic love the last emotion Sherlock needs to feel? Appreciate your comments.


End file.
